to accomplish his end. Indeed, it may be doubted if he possessed that first great quality for a practical statesman—instinctive sympathy for the conditions under which his work has to be done. Laud knew what he wanted—that in itself gives a certain claim to greatness—but he took the readiest, the most obvious way to gain his end, and scarcely stopped to consider how he could work most acceptably. His training was academic, his mind was logical; he had all the defects of a purely academic character. He lacked personal dignity and geniality. He did not recognise the large part which is played in popular opinion by prejudice. He thought that if a thing was reasonable the only way of proving its reasonableness was by enforcing it. He was conscious of his personal limitations, and the consciousness seems to have depressed him instead of spurring him to self-discipline and self-improvement. Rarely has a man displayed so much activity with so little hopefulness. He does not seem to have felt the need for enthusiasm, and he did not kindle it in others. His plans came before men's eyes in a mass of details which were not irradiated by an intelligible principle. He treated mankind as if they were children, and he their schoolmaster. "Do this because I tell you, and you will see its use in time," is not a command which is readily obeyed by Englishmen. He did not draw the line between what was of primary importance and what was trivial, between regulating the services of the Church and the demeanour of the worshippers. Men might recogfnise the desirability of the restoration of churches, of the orderly and decent perform-
